


Bedtime Stories

by hyperspeed_spacegote



Series: The World Without [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Confusion, F/M, One Shot, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23003488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperspeed_spacegote/pseuds/hyperspeed_spacegote
Summary: "Asriel, could you tell me a story?"How to begin? Where to end? So many, many things unsaid…Part 1 ofThe World Without.
Relationships: Asriel Dreemurr & Frisk, Asriel Dreemurr/Frisk
Series: The World Without [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890637
Kudos: 25





	Bedtime Stories

“Asriel…?”

“Hmm?”

“Could you tell me a story?”

Asriel shifted uncomfortably in his small chair, hands restless in his lap.

"Please?"

A small, pleading smile tugged at the corners of Frisk's lips. He looked over at the person lying on the bed beside him, the one whom he had once mistaken for another. So much had happened since then. So much time, so many years had passed. Asriel sighed and straightened out a crease in her plain green gown. It was neither the time nor the place for his reluctance.

"Alright, you win,” he said, with a nervous chuckle.

Thoughts raced through his head like a herd of stampeding goats, as he unsuccessfully tried to wrangle them into some semblance of coherence. How to begin? Where to end? So many, many things unsaid…

Frisk took his hand and smiled gently. Asriel held it in his own, feeling the warm skin against his fur.

The goats frolicked with wild abandon; he felt the thumping of their hooves pound in his chest. What to say…?

“Once upon a time…” she whispered, just barely audible over the thrumming of monitors.

That story? Yes. That would have to do. Asriel drew a long, shuddering breath.

“Once upon a time, a small child fell into the Underground," he began, tentatively.

Eyes closed. Another breath, longer and deeper.

“The child was brave, selfless, and determined. They had known nothing but loneliness and suffering, but showed only love and compassion for others.

Asriel fell into a rhythm and spoke the words as they formed in his mind.

“As they traversed the Underground, they met the ones who would become their friends, and eventually, their family.

“They felt for the monsters' plight and heard their desperate wishes. They gazed at the stars, frozen in time, locked in stone, as unmoving and unchanging as the Underground itself."

The Underground. A place forever trapped in stasis. A place where nothing ever happened. Nothing interesting, anyway. He should know. _He_ would know. After all-

Asriel shook himself before he could finish the thought. He took a moment before continuing. Frisk waited patiently.

"They learned of the family that fate tore apart, and with all their heart, they resolved to make whole again what was once broken.

"At the end of their long journey, they confronted Evil. Through sheer force of will, they defeated it and destroyed the barrier. The broken family was restored. All of monsterkind was redeemed."

He smiled quietly to himself, still looking at Frisk's hand.

“The child stayed with the monsters and in a few years grew into a fine young adult. Everyone was… happy.

"But… one day…"

His breath caught, and Asriel choked on his words. A closed door. A tidy room. An empty bed. A message, hastily scribbled. One question.

"…Why?"

He looked to Frisk, but she averted her eyes. No answer.

Asriel thought he heard a quiet murmur, coming from… somewhere. _Some things can’t be undone_. Were those the words? He found he could not hold them. They passed as surely as a fading dream, slipping into the crevices of memory like sand through his fingers.

The final grains fled his grasp. Perhaps it was nothing after all? He drew another breath and continued.

"Any time we came close, we would find… nothing. Nothing at all. In the end, we… gave up.” Despite their best efforts, integration had never quite worked out the way the monsters had hoped, and there was already too much trouble to tackle back at home.

Frisk tightened her grip on Asriel's hand, still avoiding his gaze. “But you found me, didn't you?"

"More like you… you wanted to be found,” he answered, awkwardly, “Um, I guess… in a way you did keep your promise, after all. Hah…"

Her gaze sank even further. She pulled her hand out of Asriel's, rolling away to the opposite side of the narrow bed to face the window. Asriel stared at the ground.

Nobody spoke.

Asriel felt something stirring within him. It had become inexplicably hard to breathe. "Toriel and Asgore will see you tomorrow,” he said in a strangled voice, balling his fists.

Frisk did not reply.

"Goodnight, Frisk."

"Goodnight, Asriel."

He dimmed the lights and left the room.

* * *

“Asriel?”

“Hmm?”

“Could you tell me a story?”

A sense of exhaustion permeated Frisk’s words. A long, long time ago, a dear friend had once asked the same of him, in the same tired voice. Back then, he couldn’t think of the words to say. Nothing had seemed… quite appropriate for the occasion. This time, he had come prepared.

“Alright.”

Asriel tried to make himself comfortable in the tiny chair. If it had armrests, he wouldn’t have been able to fit into it. It was made for humans, after all. Given where they were, it was unsurprising.

He composed himself as best as he could. Like the chair, his best probably wouldn’t ever be good enough. Focusing his thoughts, he began.

“Once upon a time, there was a very evil demon. He lived alone in the Underground, far away from everyone.”

Frisk frowned. Asriel kept going, speaking the lines he had rehearsed.

"The demon was selfish, cruel, and uncaring. He had once been showered with love and affection, but in return he had nothing but malice and spite to offer.”

Her frown deepened. They both knew where this was going.

“He took out his rage and frustration on those who loved him. His entire existence he dedicated to making them suffer.”

Asriel could feel his hands shaking. Dust had a particular texture and scent that would not be easily forgotten.

“Day after day, he would devise new and creative means of torture. When he tired of that, he would dream up ways to break their spirit. And when that finally became tedious, he would dispose of them and move on to the next.”

He grabbed his thighs and felt the claws bite through his jeans and into his skin. For a moment, the pain helped center his thoughts, but the words had already begun to fritter away into the void. Frisk tried weakly to reach for him; he ignored the gesture.

“Nothing could please him. His capacity for cruelty was boundless. Nothing could stop him, either.

“But, by a miracle, an angel from the surface appeared and taught him how to love. And by no small sacrifice, she carved out a new form for him. In it, he was loved by all, but his sins came back to haunt him.”

“Asriel, we’ve already—”

He raised his voice, cutting Frisk off.

“No matter what he did or said, nobody truly understood him— nobody _knew_ him like the angel did. The angel was his anchor to this world. The only proof that he had really, truly, existed.”

Asriel felt sick to his stomach. His right hand clutched his chest in an attempt to still his pounding heart. The sentences he had tread and retread countless times in his mind fell apart as tears began to cloud his vision.

“Frisk… when you left, I–I didn’t know what to do. I spent every waking moment searching, but you didn’t want to be found. Eventually, I was the only one left looking.”

He stuck his other hand into his left pocket and pulled out a dirty yellow post-it, waving it in front of Frisk. It had been laminated, but the corners had worn smooth, and the laminate was nearly falling apart. Frisk’s eyes widened.

“Don’t follow me, please. I’ll be back, I promise. I love you.” The words wormed their way out from the back of his throat, emulsifying in bitter, acrid bile as he tore them from his soul, one by one. “Your promise… it was the only way I could ever hope to live with myself again.”

“Asriel… I’m here… I need you to– please, could you please… Or else…” Frisk choked out.

“But… Y-You’re going to…” Asriel could hardly bring himself to finish his sentence. Tears soaked the fur on his cheeks. “…to leave again, Frisk. Aren’t you?”

“…”

“Why?? Why? Why! It’s not fair! Why did Chara have to leave me? Why did you have to leave me?”

“Asriel—”

“I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” An accusing finger was raised in Frisk’s direction. “EIGHT YEARS! I spent EIGHT YEARS on my own, looking for YOU, and YOU have to come back like… LIKE THIS!”

“I didn’t—”

“You didn't?" His muzzle shaped itself into a twisted grimace. A deranged chuckle escaped his lips. "Yeah, _you didn't_.

"YOU DIDN'T—"

Asriel slammed a fist onto the table beside Frisk's bed, jolting the clipboard lying on it.

"EVEN—"

The table groaned at his assault. A small, clear bag of fluid quivered at the sound of his voice.

"APOLOGIZE!!"

He grabbed the clipboard and flung it to the ground. Charts and tables of measurements were strewn across the floor.

Frisk bit her lip and stared at her blanket. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Asriel found himself standing, tears streaming down his face. He closed his eyes and took a long, deliberate breath. Wiping the tears away with his sleeve, he began to pick up the papers. “S-Sorry… I… I guess Flowey never really left, did he?” he said, with a pained smile, “I know you were reluctant to stay with us, but there was a good reason for all of this, right? Frisk?”

“I…” She hesitated. “Maybe.”

Asriel retrieved the last of the papers and returned the clipboard to the table. “I just wanted to… be with you, Frisk. It’s… it’s too soon. Can't I be selfish this one time?” He turned to Frisk and tried to smile, but it came out sickly.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted him. “Hey! What’s going on in there?” a muffled voice asked. “Freaking monsters, I tell you,” another one huffed. Someone tried the handle, and then there was the sound of rummaging.

Asriel sighed and walked over to the door.

“Goodnight, Frisk.”

He opened it, nearly hitting the man attempting to unlock the door and stepped out.

“Goodnight, Asriel.”

* * *

“Asriel.”

The name was more implied than heard. Asriel leaned over her from where he was sitting, gently stroking the back of her hand. She had been silent since the time he had entered the room. It was cold.

“Yes?”

“Can I tell you a story?” Frisk asked, quietly. She struggled to raise her voice to more than a whisper, but she was smiling.

Asriel felt like he knew what was coming. He pulled his chair a little closer.

“Once upon a time…”

Frisk gazed blankly at the wall in front of her with that smile on her face. Asriel shivered. She continued.

“Once upon a time, a little girl fell into the Underground.

“Among the monsters, for the first time, she found a home. She loved everyone dearly and poured out her heart for them. For them, there was nothing she would not do.”

Frisk paused, trying to catch her breath.

“There, she met the Prince. A lost soul in an empty shell, never again to feel love. Only by his help, were the monsters freed. In the end, he, too, was saved.”

She turned to Asriel. “Do you know what happens next?” she asked.

Asriel found his mouth suddenly dry and his throat hoarse. He tried to speak, but ended up making a strangled croak.

"Monsters returned to the surface. Step by careful step, they birthed a new era. Human and monster worked hand in hand, and in time, they reached the stars.

“The little girl stayed with the Prince and never left his side. They were happy. Everyone was happy. The end.”

Frisk’s smile widened a little.

It was Asriel's turn to meet Frisk's gaze. His mind raced. The end? But—

She nodded slowly, closing her eyes, speaking as if recounting a half-remembered dream. "It could have been one. She grew weak and sickly, while the Prince remained as strong and healthy as ever. She began to have regrets. She wanted to be with everyone. She didn't want to leave.

"Couldn't she be selfish just this once? Didn’t their savior deserve it? It wasn't fair… Her last thoughts, as she drifted away. And at the end…”

"I… don't want to die…”

The words left his mouth before he knew it. They tasted familiar on his tongue. Frisk laughed deliriously and was immediately beset by a series of coughs that wracked her body.

“Frisk…”

Bile rose again in the back of his throat.

“She buried her heart and donned a cloak of lies. For a long time, it worked. Until one day… it didn’t.”

“Frisk… why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He knew. He knew the answers to the questions he was asking, answers he didn’t want to hear, but he could not stop himself.

“If the demon could only be forgiven by the angel, then who would the angel seek mercy from?” Frisk opened her eyes and smiled sadly at Asriel. “God?”

“B-But everyone would… I would have…”

He so desperately wanted to take the words back, but there were things that could not be undone. A wave of nausea hit him, and he covered his mouth with a hand and retched.

“… what a joke…” she mumbled. For a moment, silence hung over the room.

“Frisk… I… I…” Asriel drew a breath and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Do it, Frisk.”

“No… this illness… is my penance.”

“Please, Frisk.”

“The world isn’t about me or you… or any monster or human.”

“I DON’T CARE!! SCREW THE WORLD!! I DON’T CARE IF WE HAVE TO DO IT ALL OVER!" He choked on his sobs. "Just… j-just…”

“I can’t, Asriel. I made sure when I saved you. That I couldn’t destroy… everything, again… ”

“No… no…" Asriel's hands clamped down on Frisk's shoulders, his tears rolling off his cheeks and onto her own. "Don’t lie to me again… please… please… please…”

"Shhh… shhhh…" She raised her hand to caress his muzzle, stroking his fur. “It’ll be… alright. I’ll always… with you…” It trailed downwards, brushing the side of his neck, finally resting upon his chest. “Here…”

Her voice trailed off. She closed her eyes and smiled. It never left her face.

A soft, warm brilliance rose from her body, a candle against the night. The smallest, tiniest fragment of a soul. Asriel cupped it tenderly with both hands and brought it to his heart. He could feel it beating.

“Goodnight… my…”

But there came no answer.

And as he sat alone, in the long shadows of regret, in the silence between words unspoken, he thought he heard a faint, faraway voice whispering to his soul.

 _Goodnight, my sweet prince_.

Asriel wept.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Goodnight.


End file.
